


Delta-v

by gnomeslice



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnomeslice/pseuds/gnomeslice
Summary: Escorting a civilian scientist to a remote space station to study a dying star is not the mission Lucy would have chosen for herself, but she'll try to make the most of it, and who knows, maybe Doctor Danvers will be decent company.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delta-v (literally "change in velocity"), symbolized as ∆v and pronounced delta-vee, as used in spacecraft flight dynamics, is a measure of the impulse that is needed to perform a maneuver such as launch from, or landing on a planet or moon, or in-space orbital maneuver.

“I need to speak to Admiral Pierce.”

The office aide, a lieutenant that looks too young to be wearing the uniform, consults the monitor on the corner of her desk before frowning politely. “Unfortunately, Admiral Pierce is unavailable. I can put you one her schedule, though, are you available Monday of next week?”

“According to this,” Lucy holds up the thin datapad in her hand, fingers clenched tightly around it as she attempts to quell her impatience, “I’ll be sixteen light-years from the nearest spaceport next Monday. So, no, I won’t be available, I need to speak to her now. Is she in her office?”

The lieutenant glances from the monitor to the rank pinned to the standing collar of Lucy’s dress uniform. She’s weighing her options between annoying her boss and respectfully telling a higher-ranking officer to get lost. “Yes, she is, but she doesn’t—”

Lucy is stalking around the desk and down the hall before the aide can finish her excuses. She pushes through the office door, ignoring the shout of protest behind her. Rear Admiral Carolyn Pierce doesn’t startle, simply looks up at her from over the wire rims of her glasses and smiles as if she had been expecting Lucy all along.

“Lieutenant Colonel Lane, good morning,” she greets, setting aside the star charts she had been studying. She waves her aide away when the lieutenant appears in the doorway. “I see you received your assignment orders.”

“Good morning, Admiral,” Lucy offers, because some courtesies must be observed no matter how ridiculous the situation might be. She waits until the door closes firmly before holding up the datapad again. “And no, these aren’t my orders, they’re garbage.”

“What, you don’t want to see Sector 2813? I heard its asteroid field can be pretty this time of year.”

Lucy stares at her. “It’s a ring of dead planet and radioactive waste.”

“But the colors are very stunning.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect—”

“Lucy, you know I hate when people say that.”

“Then allow me to rephrase,” Lucy sighs, barely keeping her eyes from rolling. “Ma’am, what the hell? I didn’t spend eighteen months patrolling the Reef to come home to a babysitting assignment.”

Admiral Pierce leans back in her chair, studying Lucy carefully. For a moment Lucy thinks she’s pushed too far. Sure, she’s always been something of a favorite to the Admiral, but the last time they genuinely worked together was in a warzone and perhaps Lucy, so fresh from her own battlespace, has forgotten how to conduct herself in a garrison environment.

“Consider it a vacation.”

“A vacation,” Lucy repeats duly, “to an empty research station orbiting a dying star and one random civilian scientist for company.”

“You said you wanted something quiet.”

“I meant something steady, like cadre at the Flight Academy or a desk at the UNAC HQ.” Lucy crosses her arms over her chest. “This job isn’t quiet, it’s mute.”

“Would you really be happy at a desk surrounded by brass?”

Lucy’s eyes narrow slightly, her stomach turning over. “Am I being punished? Admiral, I know WARCOM wasn’t exactly impressed with my maneuver at the Vestian Outpost—”

“The decrepit morons over at Warfare Command have nothing to do with this,” Admiral Pierce interrupts, her tone becoming more serious. She stands from her desk and moves around it until she’s standing in front of Lucy. “And no, they might not have agreed with every decision you made, but I read the reports and I think you were handed an impossible situation and still managed to deliver the best possible outcome.”

Lucy’s eyes fall to the floor, uncomfortable receiving the one thing her soul has been screaming to hear since returning from the Reef—that she did everything she could, and it wasn’t a complete disaster, and was actually sort of successful, all things considered.

“WARCOM might not have been impressed with you,” the Admiral’s hands fall onto her shoulders, squeezing them tightly, “but I am, Lucy.”

She takes a small breath, settling the emotions that threaten to bubble up in her chest. Lucy blinks a few times, making sure her eyes are dry before looking up to face the Admiral. “Then why are you banishing me from the rest of the fleet?”

“I picked you because I need someone I can trust. And I really do think you deserve a vacation.” Admiral Pierce smiles a little. “I need you on this, Lane.”

Lucy sighs, accepting her fate. “Yes, Admiral.”

* * *

She spends the next week preparing for the mission. Flight itineraries, supply inventories, and security considerations all need to be filed with Admiral Pierce’s office. Lucy still hasn’t even met this illusive researcher she’ll be escorting to some godforsaken chunk of dead rock. There’s no description of the research in her orders, only a list of necessary acquisitions signed by a Doctor Alexandra Danvers.

It’s a bit of a miracle, and a small point of pride, that Lucy manages to secure every item Doctor Danvers requested in the seven days she had to work with. This might not be her ideal mission, but Lucy’s going to make sure it goes off without a hitch. She has a reputation to deliver quality results, or at least she did before the Vestian Outpost debacle, and Lucy’s determined to keep anything else from damaging her record, especially not a task that looks like it could have been delegated to any junior officer with a pilot’s license. She would have taken it personally if Admiral Pierce hadn’t assured her it wasn’t punitive.  

Despite the reassurance, Lucy can’t shake the feeling that there’s something here she’s not seeing. Lucy’s never known the military to charter, escort, and finance a civilian’s private research. Doctor Danvers must be under a contract of some kind. It would explain the level of security Lucy’s had to adhere to when requesting supplies and equipment. It seems as if neither the military nor Doctor Danvers wants the nature of this research to be known. And Lucy, with her field experience and eye for security, seems to be a perfect candidate for the escort.

Lucy vows to stay sharp, because this hardly feels like a vacation.

The morning of the launch, Lucy dresses in her flight suit and gets an early start in the hangar deck to supervise the final preparations. She has to admit there’s something comforting about the buzz of a hangar crew. The Crew Sergeant directs the fueling while her team goes about loading of the cargo. It’s almost nice, how calm everyone is when the station’s hull isn’t being pelted with explosive ordnance. Lucy pushes those thoughts away. With a twist of her wrist Lucy activates the Comprehensive Personal Communicator (C-Pac) on her left forearm. A small holographic screen appears and Lucy prompts it to sync with the ship’s computer interface. Now she’ll be able to control most of the ship’s functions remotely.

“Ma’am?”

Lucy looks up from her work, finding a young specialist standing at her elbow and pointing across the bay. There’s a woman making her way across the hangar with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a black case in her hand. This must be their mysterious doctor. Lucy thanks the crewmember and starts walking to intercept her.

She’s taller than Lucy, with a thin frame and dark hair cut above her shoulders. Lucy notices the worn patches on her dark utility trousers, a brand favored by miners on the moons of Jupiter. Her leather jacket is well-loved and the faded scuffs decorating her boots remind Lucy of hard work. It seems odd, Lucy had expected a scientist to be more straight-laced, maybe fresh out of the lab with a pressed shirt and skin that has forgotten the warmth of the sun. Contrary to everything Lucy could have imagined, this woman has a faint tan line around her neck, a telltale sign that she’s spent plenty of time in a spacesuit outside of a ship’s hull.

So, the scientist does a little more than sit behind a desk. Lucy might be impressed.

“Can I help you?” Lucy asks the woman when she gets a few paces away.

“Um, yeah, I’m looking for,” she starts slowly, her eyes fall to the C-Pac display on her wrist. Her eyebrows knit and her focus shifts back up to Lucy, or more accurately, the name embroidered on her flight suit. “You. I’m looking for you. Lieutenant Colonel Lane?”

“That’s what it says on my shirt.” Lucy gives her a small smile. “You must be Doctor Alexandra Danvers?”

“Alex,” she corrects easily, politely returning Lucy’s smile and offering her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Lucy takes her hand, surprised—and pleased—at the strength of her grip. There’s just something about a woman with a solid handshake that Lucy really appreciates. With a deep breath to clear her head, Lucy takes back her hand and crosses her arms over her chest, getting back to business. “I was able to secure all of your acquisitions, Doctor. You’re welcome to inspect the materials if you’d like.”

“I would, actually,” Alex says in earnest. Her eyes skate to the ship on the hangar bay. “Not that I don’t trust your ability, but I’d hate to get all the way out there and realize something went wrong.”

“You’re the expert.” Lucy concedes the point without insult. She waves over a member of the hangar staff, asking her to take Alex’s bags. “Right this way.”

Lucy leads her into the ship’s cargo hold. Alex doesn’t waste time pulling up her C-Pac and referencing the labeled crates against her records. Lucy watches from the door, wanting to be available for questions but not in the way. Doctor Danvers is diligent, checking each item with an attention to detail that Lucy respects.

“I’m surprised you were able to get this in time.” Alex gestures to the wall of supplies designated solely for her research. “It would have taken me months if I had to go through my normal channels. Well, legal channels, anyway.”

Lucy isn’t sure if that was a joke, so she doesn’t say anything. Instead she asks, “Is there anything missing?”

“No, it’s all here.” Alex closes her C-Pac and lets the sleeve of her jacket fall over it. “When are we set to leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

* * *

This ship is small, a four-chair cockpit that could easily be crewed by one person. Lucy takes her spot in the pilot’s chair. Alex settles next to her in the co-pilot’s position, though she keeps her hands on the armrests and seems perfectly content to sit back a watch Lucy run through the launch procedures herself.

“Doctor, I’ll need you to buckle up.”

Alex props her elbow on the armrest, her chin falling into her palm as she studies Lucy coaxing the ship’s thrusters to life. “Are you a poor pilot?”

“No, I'm an excellent pilot,” Lucy stays firm, “but it's a safety protocol.”

Alex considers this with a soft, “Hm.”

Lucy continues her preparations, contacts the station’s traffic control to approve their launch, and turns to Alex. “Your safety belt, Doctor Danvers.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Alex says in a tone just shy of overt sarcasm. She buckles herself in and continues watching Lucy.

It's not as if Lucy’s never had an audience before, it’s hard to get through flight school without your every move being criticized by six different senior officers at any given time, so Lucy doesn’t mind Alex being obvious in her attention, she only wonders what the reason behind it is. If Alex thinks she’s going to get Lucy to squirm just by staring at her, she has another thing coming. And, if it’s Alex’s intention to test the waters, to see how Lucy will react to, well, then it’s going to be a long trip.

“Prepare for thrusters,” she warns, because it’s polite.

“I’m prepared,” Alex responds dryly.

If anyone asked, Lucy would explain that she’s grown used to the large gunships of the Reef and that’s why her launch out of the hangar was so abrupt, and so forceful, that the sole passenger fell back heavily into her seat, with a loud and startled, “Fuck.”

If anyone asked, Lucy would explain that she had given the appropriate warning and Doctor Danvers had confirmed that she was ready for the maneuver.

And if she were pressed, Lucy would admit that she found the whole thing very funny.  

Doctor Danvers, apparently, did not find it funny and Lucy feels her stare with a considerably greater heat. Lucy ignores her, focusing instead on inputting the coordinates for the series of hyperspace jumps it will take to arrive at their destination. The hyperdrive hums to life at Lucy’s command.

“Prepare for the jump to hyperspace.”

Alex makes a small, disgruntled noise and Lucy thinks she might see her move more firmly to the back of her chair. The journey takes six jumps of five light-years each. Lucy brings them out of hyperspace just inside the small system’s outer boundary. Alex is on her feet the moment the ship stabilizes, leaning over the control console to see better. Admiral Pierce was right, the colors do look beautiful. The red sun sends bright, warm light over icy blue planets and orange moons. It’s an incredible sight. Lucy is able to appreciate it for a moment before she starts remembering all the ways those moons can hide threats, and how no UNAC allies live on those planets.

“Welcome to System 786 of Sector 2813,” Lucy offers quietly.

“It has a name,” Alex mumbles, more to herself than to Lucy. “The galaxy, the planets, this sun—they all have names.”

Lucy knows that any given star in the universe could have an infinite number of names from the infinite number of astrologers from an infinite number of planets naming them all different things. The only identification Lucy’s ever put stock in is the military’s categorical system. Perhaps she should be more aware of the cultural names. She’ll look at the in the star charts once she gets settled in. Right now, she’s more focused on the upcoming hazard. An asteroid field sits between them and their goal, a small, fifteen-person facility set in orbit around Red Sun 2813-35.

Lucy figures she should probably figure out the cultural name for that, too.

“I need you to buckle up,” Lucy repeats herself, softer this time. “This asteroid belt isn’t something to underestimate.”

Alex doesn’t answer, but she does slink back and secure herself into the chair. Lucy coaxes the shuttle forward. She takes them around the two outer planets and their moons.

“Taking the scenic route?” Alex asks, understandably confused.

“The scouting route.” Lucy studies the readings on her console. “Hiding behind a moon is the easiest way to shield your vessel from prying radar. This is a remote system and if someone needed to lay low it would be a decent hideout.”

Alex looks thoughtful. “Worried about pirates?”

“There’s no harm in seeing who else is in the neighborhood.” Lucy shrugs, feeling relieved when her scans come back clean.

It looks like they have the system to themselves and Lucy would like to keep it that way. After double checking her findings, Lucy adjusts her grip on the directional joystick and sets a course for the asteroid belt. Alex sits quietly, captivated by the spiraling ruins of a dead planet trapped in a ghostly ring by the sun’s gravitational pull. Their ship is small enough to be easily maneuverable. With a bit of concentration, Lucy weaves them through the chunks of rock and ice without incident. Finally, the space station appears in their range of vision.

“At least it’s in once piece,” Lucy sighs. Alex rolls her eyes without any attempts at subtlety.

The station is easily a decade out of date. The thermo-paneling looks like it’s attached by makeshift repairs and one solar sail drifts uselessly by its last connecting ring, probably damaged by a passing meteor. Lucy brings the shuttle into dock very carefully. Alex is moving as soon as they locked in and exits the cockpit. Lucy doesn’t leave her chair, instead she works on connecting to the station’s computer system. Her work, and the diagnostic testing that goes with it, will take nearly an hour, which is much longer than Alex is willing to spend sitting in the shuttle.

“What are we waiting for?” Alex huffs impatiently from somewhere behind her.

“I’m scanning the facility for life and running diagnostics on all the life support systems,” Lucy explains, her eyes still on the display in front of her. “It hasn’t been officially inhabited in years, you never know what might have broken since then.”

“Is the life support working?”

“Yes, but the auxiliary—” Lucy’s cut off by the portside internal airlock opening. She spins in her chair, shouting, “Danvers!”

Alex reappears in the cockpit doorway with an annoyed expression. “You called?”

She’s wearing a suit and holding a helmet under her arm.

“What are you doing?” Lucy stands from her chair, taking the few steps necessary to put herself in front of Alex. “We need to take this slow.”

“Your diagnostics are only going to tell us so much. We need to see what’s going on in there.” Alex reaches into the storage unit and pulls out a second suit, pushing it into Lucy’s arms. “Come on.”

Lucy frowns, but tries to sound as congenial as possible. “There’s a reason we have re-inhabitance procedures, Doctor.”

“Look, if you want to put your faith in secondhand relay diagnostics, you can.” Alex moves into the docking port’s airlock. “We both know the most accurate data is going to be on the station’s computer. I’ll go find it and let you know what it says.”

Her hand reaches for the control panel.

“Wait,” Lucy huffs. “I'm coming with you.”

She tries very hard to ignore the smug look on Alex’s face as she slips into the spacesuit and grabs a helmet. There’s one more thing she brings with her, from the compartment next to the suits.

Alex watches her secure the holster around her waist with curious eyes. “I want a gun.”

“No.” Lucy refuses her outright and wards off any further comment by placing her helmet over her head. Alex starts to do the same and when they both have their helmets fastened to their suit collars and their supplemental oxygen supplies have started, Lucy asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, but I think I should have a gun, too,” Alex mentions stubbornly. “We don’t know what we’re going to find over there.”

Lucy clenches one fist and pushes the airlock controls with the other. “You’re the one that wanted to charge over without waiting for the diagnostics.”

Alex shrugs as if she can’t be faulted for her logic. The airlock closes and Lucy prompts the second hatch to open. The station’s halls are dark except for small track lights blinking along the floorboards. Lucy steps across the threshold first, her eyes sharp and quick, Alex hovering near her left elbow.

“The control center should be to the left, and then straight ahead,” Lucy recites from memory, having studied all the station schematics to find out exactly what she would be working with upon arrival. Lucy leads Alex down the thin halls. They pass a small sick bay, the doors to the crew’s quarters, and an empty mess hall. Finally, they make it to the control center.

“This doesn’t look so bad,” Lucy tries to sound positive as the doors slide open with an uncomfortable grinding sound.

Alex is a little more direct, “It looks like a rust bucket.”

While it’s not the worst facility Lucy’s ever seen, it could sure use with an overhaul. The monitors haven’t been updated to the hologram projection models that are now common and it's clear that the security features became obsolete at least five years ago. Technology aside, the worst part is the clutter. Boxes of broken equipment lining the walls. The desks and light tables are littered with random computer parts, discarded charts, and spare datapads. Lucy is sure someone had taken to sleeping in the far corner, if the pile of blankets and empty food tins are anything to go by.

Holding back a sigh, Lucy walks up to the main computer and begins the initial commands for re-inhabitation. An automated voice chimes through the PA system.

_“User identification requested.”_

Lucy complies.

_“Lieutenant Colonel Lucille Madeline Lane, identification code UNAO-2242681, welcome to the L. Carter Orbital Research Facility.”_

It’s a minor discomfort when her credentials appear on the large monitor, the picture is incredibly out of date and Lucy has never lived down that particular haircut.

“Lucille?” Alex teases from where she had been poking around a control panel on the other side of the room. “That’s cute.”

The temperature inside her helmet increases noticeably as Lucy blushes. “I’m not sure you have any room to talk, Alexandra.”

“Point.” Alex shrugs, looking a little humbled. “So, do you go by Lucy or something?”

“I do.”

This seems to satisfy Alex who goes back to her tinkering. Lucy refocuses on getting the major life support systems online. In minutes, she has the power running back in full and the security grid established around the station. She’s tested the air quality and each failsafe three different times by the time Alex appears at her side.

“I want to go look around. Have your scans found any signs of life?”

“Nothing. It looks like we’re clear, and the air quality is coming back with good readings.”

Lucy goes to take off her helmet. It’s always a tough moment, taking off your helmet in an unknown area. Lucy lifts the helmet over her head and takes a small breath. The air is stale but has no noticeably harsh smells or fumes.

Alex, who’s watching carefully, asks, “How do you feel?”

“Alright.” Lucy nods slowly, setting her helmet aside and reaches for the fastener at her neck. “I need to find the temperature controls, but it seems fine.”

They take off their suits. Lucy folds them neatly and sets them on a chair nearby, ignoring the strange look Alex is sending her as she finishes.

“One more thing.” Lucy waves Alex over to the main control terminal. “We have to set up the station security. I need your handprint.”

Lucy programs their profiles into the computer, giving herself Commander’s Rights to the station controls and Alex crew access. The last thing Lucy does is sync her C-Pac to the station’s system so she can monitor the network remotely.

“Can I see my lab now, please?” Alex grouses from near the door.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” Lucy moves to follow Alex into the hall, scooping up the holster from the chair and throwing it around her waist as she catches up.

“Do you plan to wear that the entire time we’re here?” Alex asks, gesturing with her eyes to the weapon on Lucy’s hip.

“Probably not,” Lucy admits. “But I’m not yet confident in the station’s security. Maybe after I run a few tests.”

It sounds logical with she says it like that. Honestly, Lucy hasn’t been away from the Reef for very long. Spending eighteen months in the most volatile battlespace known to UNAC will give anyone a critical eye for security, and sometimes the only comfort you can find is in the weight of a weapon on your waist.

“The lab should be this way,” Lucy deflects, leading Alex through the mess hall and into the research wing. “I don’t know what you’re used to as far as equipment goes. I hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

“I can make do.” Alex presses the entrance command on the wall.

The doors slide open, or at least the start to. Lucy bites her lip to keep from laughing as the doors stick on their rails and stop with only four inches between them.

“Oh, this is promising.” Alex grumbles, stepping forward to wrench the doors open manually. It doesn’t quite work.

Lucy moves closer. “Here, let me help.”

She braces her hands on the edge of one door and her foot against the other. Alex, after a second, mirrors her position.

“On three?” Lucy prompts. Alex nods. “One, two, three.”

They push and pull and, with a bit of effort, are able to pry the doors open.

Alex straightens up and wipes her hands on her pants. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Lucy steps back a little to let Alex go through.

The lab isn't anything spectacular, but it does have a lot of workspace. The computer consoles are blinking to life with fresh power. Lucy doesn't recognize a lot of the equipment on the desks or the machines mounted to the walls. She's just glad that Alex seems content with them. She wipes off a few screens, making small notes to herself about updates and adaptors. Lucy hovers at the door, leaning against the frame as Alex goes about opening storage drawers and cabinets to see what's available.

“Why are we here, Doctor Danvers?” Lucy asks after a moment. “They never told me the nature of your research.”

Alex glances up from a drawer of beakers to study Lucy. Her expression is guarded and slightly disbelieving, as if she thinks Lucy is lying. It rubs Lucy the wrong way, but she holds her tongue. Alex slides the drawer shut and crosses the room to the large windows at the far side. The shutters slide up with a flick of her wrist and Lucy blinks at the harsh light that spills into the room.

“This sun is special,” Alex explains quietly. “The radiation it creates can manipulate organic cells in a unique manner. I'm here to study it.”

Lucy considers the information, compiling it with everything else she knows about the project. She doesn't have a lot to work with, and doesn't know enough about the supplies she gathered to paint a clear picture. She won't press. Admiral Pierce wants her here to facilitate the work and that's enough, for now.

Lucy tilts her head back towards the hall. “I'm going to start bringing in the supply crates. Your C-Pac is linked to comms so let me know if you need anything. Don't yell unless it's an emergency.”

“I'll come help.” Alex lowers the shutters and turns to follow. Lucy waves her off.

“Don't worry about it. I don't want to keep you from getting settled into all of,” Lucy gestures to the lab, “this.”

“If you're sure,” Alex says slowly, trying to figure out if Lucy's offer is genuine.

“Definitely.” Lucy throws over her shoulder as she leaves.

She doesn't mind the labor, hover carts will make it almost too easy. What Lucy wants right now is to get all their gear off the ship so she can set up their defense systems. She has weeks to sit on this station while Alex conducts her research and she's making it her personal mission to get this station locked up tighter than it's ever been. Maybe then Lucy will be able to relax.

In the matter of an hours Lucy moves all the crates into the lab's supply room. Alex insists on organizing it herself so Lucy leaves her to it, grabbing her personal bag and heading into the crew quarters. Each room houses five crewmembers, each given a bed, desks, and wall locker. It's not a pretty space, like everything else, the quarters look like they’ve seen better days. The desks are wobbly and half the lockers don't close properly. It’s a small consolation that the bed compartments are decently sized, nestled into the walls with retractable privacy screens.

Lucy looks around the room. Her first instinct is to sleep farthest from the door. She doesn't know if Alex is going to bunk in this room or if she'll pick another. Should they stay together? It would make Lucy more comfortable, but is it weird to ask? Civilians can be so touchy. Lucy decides to take the bunk on the left, so she can see the door from her desk and bed. She won't ask Alex where she's going to sleep, deciding to just wait to see what happens.

She doesn’t have time to worry about this when she has an entire network to overhaul. Lucy tosses her bag on the bed and heads to the command center.

* * *

Sometime later, Alex places the last couple packets of saline solution into refrigerated drawer and slides it shut with her foot. That should be everything. Now that her supplies are organized the next step is to get her computers up and running. Lieutenant Colonel Lane, the stiff woman she’ll be sharing a space with for the foreseeable future, was nice enough to bring in her duffle bag and electronics case. Alex feels a little guilty for letting her unload the entire shuttle by herself, but hey, she offered.

Alex yawns and reprioritizes. Next step coffee, then computers.

All halls lead to the mess, so Alex doesn’t have to wander around too much when she leaves the lab in search of caffeine. She almost startles when she finds Colonel Lane—or Lucy—sitting near the window in the common area, looking out at the stars. Alex isn’t exactly sure what she’s supposed to call her. She’s never addressed Alex as anything other than Doctor Danvers, so are first names off the table? And what’s with the title, is it Lieutenant Colonel or just Colonel? She’s heard it both ways, so what’s the answer here?

Alex decides to ignore the entire predicament and instead asks, “How’s the station looking?”

The abruptness of Alex’s appearance surprises the woman and sends her coffee sloshing dangerously in the mug she’s holding. When she recovers, Alex catches a bare hint of embarrassment in her expression before she schools it away and offers a friendly, “It’s fine, a little slow going, but I think I’ll have it up to speed within the next few days.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Alex moves further into the mess, following the smell of coffee. “Anything I need to be worried about?”

“Well, according to the maintenance logs from the previous mission, the station’s artificial gravity likes to go out randomly, so… there’s that.” Lucy runs her thumb over her eyebrow, a gesture that Alex thinks could be from agitation with the previous command or the fact that she’s suck in this mess of a station.

“How frequently does it happen?”

“Once a quarter, maybe. It’s an easy fix, though. I’m confident with it.”

Alex considers that. When Admiral Pierce sent her out here she promised it would be with a minimal crew, Alex hadn’t expected that to mean only one other person. The decision either speaks a great deal towards Admiral Pierce’s confidence in Lieutenant Colonel Lane, or Alex’s ability to finish her work quickly.

“How’s the lab?”

“Old. Rusted. Out of date. Like everything else on this station.” Alex takes a mug from the cupboard and fixes herself a cup of coffee. She glances at Lucy’s table. “Are those service manuals?”

“Oh.” Lucy looks down to the stack of bright orange datapads on the table. “Yes. A lot of these systems are about five years older than what I'm used to working with. I’d rather brush up on their operations now instead of waiting until they fail.”

“Good on you.” Alex isn’t sure if that’s incredibly smart or a colossal waste of time. She’s not going to deter the woman. As long as someone is working to keep this station floating, that’s all that matters to Alex. She takes a drink of her coffee and immediately spits it into the sink. “Holy hell, that is disgusting.”

Lucy laughs. It’s a warm sound and the first real emotion Alex has seen from her. It catches Alex off guard, she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth uncertainly as Lucy picks up her mug and takes a drink just for show.

“Rations, Doctor Danvers.” Lucy lifts her cup in a toast, her eyes bright and teasing. “Best coffee in the universe.”

Alex narrows her eyes and takes another look at the woman at the table. “Are you actually an android?”  

Lucy looks far more amused than Alex had expected her to, head tilting slightly as she smiles and says, “I’m not an android.”

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” Alex continues lightly, turning the mug in her hands as she observes Lucy. “I’m all for Sentient rights.”

“Not an android.” Lucy promises, shaking her head just a little. The sunlight coming through the windows falls gently on her face, creating tiny little shadows where the corners of her eyes wrinkle in her amusement. “But it’s good to know you’re not a bigot.”

Alex blinks away from her smile. Deciding to study the coffee instead, she brings it to her nose and smells it. Even the scent is too bitter for her tastes. “How can you drink this with human taste buds?”

“I guess I’m used to it.” She shrugs, holding out her hand. “Here, if you’re really not going to drink that, give it to me. I don’t like to waste it.”

Alex crosses the mess hall and hands over her mug. “You’re gonna be up for hours if you drink both of those.”

“I have a lot of manuals to read,” Lucy explains and, as if to emphasize her point, brings the cup to her lips.

Alex finds something about Lucy’s ability to stomach that liquid tar very impressive. She probably won’t admit it out loud, but she does. That isn’t going to stop her from synthesizing edible coffee, though. Alex clears her throat when she realizes she’s standing there watching Lucy drink. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

She steps away from the table, snagging a few things out of the storage pantry. As she shuffles out of the mess hall Lucy offers a simple, “Have a good night, Doctor Danvers.”

“You too,” Alex throws over her shoulder, quietly enough that she isn’t sure Lucy would be able to hear.

This is going to be a long trip.


End file.
